


The seeds of surrender

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-24
Updated: 2004-06-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:42:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: good cop, bad friend





	The seeds of surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender because this kiss already has within it the seeds of that surrender. 

\- Emil Ludwig (1881-1948)

 

The hallway was so gloomy that he slowed down to walk through it...it almost seemed that if he concentrated too hard the edges of his peripheral vision would start to blur and he would just gray right out. It was like walking into a library on a summer day...the bright and the heat snapped off suddenly by the dark and cool. It was a long time since he had been to this station. Months. He had picked up files here, but the building was still unfamiliar. 

 

He noticed suddenly that Bilkins was at the end of the hall glaring at him impatiently. Unconsciously, he stiffened his spine and felt his lips draw up into a sneer. Bilkins turned being a prick into an art form. Brian paused mentally while girding himself up for the argument that would pass for conversation. What the fuck was Bilkins doing here? For that matter, what the fuck was he doing here? His heart started to thump in his chest and he tensed against the sudden anxiety. Whatever force had brought him (still undercover) and Bilkins (fucking Fed) here to the local precinct could not possibly be a force for good. The ceilings and walls seemed to narrow around him. Traditional squadroom noises of ringing phones, booted feet, shouted questions seemed to echo and fade around him. All he could hear was the pathetic squeaking tread of his own sneakers.

 

Sergeant Tanner was standing behind and a little to the right of the ponderous bulk that was Special Agent Bilkins. Tanner had a habit of trying to look sardonic while he was doing the most ridiculous things. Currently he was trying to keep the whipped cream from escaping his overlarge latte and smirking at Brian as if he knew a joke that he wasn't going to share. 

 

Tanner followed him into the tiny, eerily dark room. One of the so-called observation rooms. Claustrophobic and closet-like with a wide window of one-way mirror leading into an interrogation room that contained...Brian stopped short. Tanner yelped as he bumped into the suddenly stationary Brian and nearly spilled his coffee.

 

"What the hell is he doing here?" Brian hissed furiously at Bilkins. Through the dirty glass, Dom sat with his head bowed at the head of a battered table. Bilkins had taken up a position to the far side of the window and he addressed his comments in a monotone to the glass.

 

"Our favorite highway bandits struck again last night, round four a.m. CHP pulled this one over 2 hours later, routine thing, taillight out or something. Officer was very alert, called in the fact that the driver had a spear gun loaded with tensile wire in his car. Local precinct flagged it, brought him in, called us." He turned and gave Brian a hard look. "Very careless of our friend here. And I don't feel great that we've invested almost $120,000 in this thing and they brought him in on a traffic stop."

 

"Why is he still cuffed?" Brian wasn't quite sure why he was asking. He could guess at four or five reasons without even really thinking about it. Dom's cheek was bruised. 

 

"He resisted arrest," Tanner said, flatly. Then he glanced at Brian "You have seen those photographs in his file?"

 

"So why am I here? What's my part in this?" Brian was impressed with his own ability to yank a coherent, non-profanity-laden phrase out of his internal monologue. 

 

"That shipment is somewhere, being offloaded with some fence presumably. It would be better for him if he just copped to it right now. But he's been exercising his constitutional right to remain silent to an...impressive...degree," Tanner said, diplomatically. "It was suggested that he might talk to you."

 

Bullshit, thought Brian, he might react to me. "Gimme the keys."

 

Bilkins looked confused, "What keys? Oh, to the cuffs? I don't have 'em."

 

"Who does?" Brian felt his stomach heave. This was getting more Kafkaesque by the moment.

 

"Some uniform," Tanner said vaguely. He rolled his eyes. "We just need him to give up the fence. Information that will take seconds to impart. His "team" isn't much for planning without him, we'll pick them up slowly, but we need the fence."

 

"Have you actually charged him with something? Or do you plan to just keep violating his civil rights until someone buys a clue?"

 

"Oh, I'm so sorry this plan doesn't meet with your approval," Bilkins drawled in an exaggerated singsong voice. "Have you forgotten what you're supposed to be doing here? What do I need to do to realign your priorities?"

 

"Just get him talking, Brian," said Tanner, quietly "That's the only way to help him now." Brian looked sharply at his mentor. Sometimes he had cause to wonder just how much Tanner really did understand.

 

"Besides, does that one look like he's got a lawyer on retainer?" sneered Bilkins. No, thought Brian miserably, it's long past the time for lawyers. Dom looked to be doing a fair impression of a statue on Easter Island.

 

"I'm going," muttered Brian. He paused for a second in the hallway to put on a neutral face. He stepped into the room feeling that odd queasy twinge like he was stepping into the morgue. 

 

Dom's eyes flashed at him when he stepped into the room but he remained silent. Good for you, thought Brian. Most people were so unnerved by the concept of law actually being enforced, that they started babbling the moment they stepped into a police precinct and didn't stop until they were wearing orange. Not that he had expected Dom to lose his cool. Dom wasn't going to reveal himself until Brian made his play...what the hell was he supposed to do now?

 

They stared at each other for well over a minute. Brian fully expected to hear his superior officers tapping on the glass. Could he force them to drop the pretense? He mustn't forget that they were there...that he was being watched. It was easy to forget his place, his role in all this. Staring into Dom's still face, he felt a million miles removed from any other concern.

 

He walked to the edge of the table and indicated that Dom should stand. Dom didn't need coaxing, he stood at once and unconsciously flexed his shoulders. His body communicated its desire for freedom wordlessly. Brian winced again inwardly. No freedom, no asylum, no damn help at all.

 

He turned Dom's chair to face the wall and indicated that he should sit. Dom paused for a long second and sat, holding Brian's gaze all the while. Brian subtly rolled his shoulder and flicked his eyes toward the mirror. Then he himself turned to face the corner just a few feet from Dom but as far away from the mirror as a person could get and still be in the room. Words floated into his mind: It is illegal to tape a subject without his/her consent. All they needed was a name, an address. Behind him he felt Dom relax marginally. Thank God, Dom was still picking up his signals. 

 

"What the hell happened?" he asked in a low voice. With his face turned away, there was no chance that anyone in the next room could hear what he was saying. He wondered how long they'd give him...he was pretty confident that he was high on the Do Not Trust list.

 

"What are you doing here, Brian?" Dom's voice pitched so low, the next room probably didn't know he had spoken at all.

 

"Tryin' to help you, man." Which wasn't a lie at all. He just hadn't figured out quite how.

 

Dom nodded as if he understood. Silence reigned for a few more minutes.

 

"So what happened?" Brian knew he would be the first to crack.

 

"Don't you know? Why are you here, Brian?" Dom's voice was so low.

 

"What are you trying to say man?" Brian felt like he'd just asked for a final cigarette. He turned and tried to make eye contact.

 

"They haven't given me my phone call. Unless you're some kind of fucking psychic, you've got no way of knowing that I was here." Dom rolled his head around on his neck and Brian was mesmerized by the pale gleam of light caressing the shaven pate. "You don't look psychic, Brian Earl Spillner. You look like a cop. Uncuff me, Brian."

 

Some part of Brian was relieved that they'd come to this part already. Now cards were on the table, now he could ante up. 

 

 

"If you've figured that out, then figure out why I'm here." C'mon tough guy, just don't say anything that they can hear. 

 

"I don't know." Dom looked up to the ceiling speculatively. "I don't know why I'm here. I haven't done anything wrong. Uncuff me." He lowered his lids and shot a quick, hooded glance at Brian. Dom's lips quirked and Brian couldn't hide the startled laugh that burst from him.

 

"Well I guess, we're done here then." Brian mimed going to the door. When he paused and looked back, he saw that Dom hadn't moved. Had in fact, stretched out his legs. Brian wanted to smile, "You know it's not that easy."

 

Dom was silent. Brian had been in multiple interrogation rooms, had charmed, chafed, cajoled many perpetrators on both sides of the fence. He was accustomed to the bitter, sullen resentment that most people showed when their actions caught up with them. He'd never seen the look on Dom's face in this room before. Dom was unmoved, indifferent, almost....calm.

 

"Do you want me to tell you your best move now? Do you want me to tell you the smart thing to do?"

 

Dom's silence began to take on an almost physical presence in the room.

 

Brian darted a quick glance to the mirror. He'd had, what? Almost ten minutes now?

 

He crossed the room and stood right in front of Dom. In the danger zone. If he could take one more step forward he would be between Dom's outstretched legs. 

 

"Please," Brian focused on the shadow of the bone underneath the smooth scalp. "Just give me the fence. Just a name, an address, that's all I need. It will go a lot better for you if they get the stuff back. I'll testify on your behalf, they might not need to involve Letty or Jesse or Vince...."

 

Dom slowly raised his head up and Brian almost flinched as those eyes shredded every inch of his body. Looking into the depths there was like staring into swirling water. He threw his last card on the table. "I'll take care of Mia..."

 

Brian had one second between the seeing the muscle in Dom's jaw twitch and then he was moving back, back, back until his shoulder blades connected with the wall and there was no more retreat left. Dom had vaulted his taut body out of the crappy chair like a whip being snapped and he was in Brian's face. He was so far in Brian's face he was almost up his nose. Brian felt Dom's shouted imprecations like blows on his ears.

 

"What the FUCK are you thinking? Brian Fucking Earl Fucking Cop Spillner! That's not even your name is it? I told you I didn't fucking do anything. But even if I did I wouldn't tell you, lying son-of-a-bitch." Dom's voice got progressively lower as he got closer and even closer until his chest was pressed up against Brian's. Brian had to inhale to get a little distance. Dom's voice got lower still. "You come in here like nothing has changed, like this is some kind of fucking joke, trying to help me? What the fuck are you thinking? Help me? You've fucked me. You lied to me and you've fucked me."

 

A hot flood of pure rage flashed through Brian. He was stiff with fury suddenly at the pure injustice of it all. This was so wrong. It wasn't supposed to be Dom. It was supposed to be some stone cold gangster like Johnny Tran. Some person that nobody cared about. Somebody that he didn't care about. Suddenly, he felt his limbs go fluid with the wash of adrenaline. He wanted to lash out at the unfairness and Dom was closest. I'm not the one in cuffs here. He raised his head and tilted his chin up, allowing Dom to move an inch closer. Then he jerked his head with all the strength in his body. In the moment before his brow bone connected with Dom's bruised cheek, he thought, this is it. It's over now. I'm not responsible anymore. This just can't be real.

 

Dom recoiled a step but he was still too steady on his feet for a body blow. Brian pushed off the wall, lowered his shoulder and used his momentum to drive Dom back until his knees hit the chair and he had to sit or fall. Classic football move. It seemed like his vision grayed out for a few moments, the dark edges of the room crept up on him. All he could see were the flashes of his own pale arms flailing. Pain brought him back to himself and the room locked back into focus. He looked down at his tingling right hand and turned his palm up and down. Dom was pulling his head upright sideways like a cobra poising to strike. Christ. He had backhanded Dom. Who is this person inside my body, thought Brian and is he going to be around when they take the cuffs off of Dominic Torretto?

 

He braced his hands on either side of Dom's chest gripping the edge of the table. Dom went still but Brian could almost feel his body coiling up like a spring. He was practically on top of the man. This was not the way to do this. Dom would never crack under a frontal assault. Even while Dom had been shouting, Brian could feel the edges of his control. Dom had been roughed up, restrained, denied outside contact for hours now...most people would be oozing fear. But he didn't smell afraid. He smelled great, actually....jesus, what does that mean?

 

Screw it, thought Brian wildly. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He spared a second's thought for Bilkins and Tanner in the next room and decided that if they hadn't intervened yet, they could go fuck themselves. He shuffled his feet forward until he was straddling Dom. Then he slowly lowered himself, six, four, two inches down until the backs of his thighs were braced against Dom's legs and they were sharing the same air again.

Dom's eyebrows shot up and he dug his toes in to begin to push himself backwards. Brian felt the lift as Dom's quadriceps swelled with tension.

 

When they ask me what the hell I was doing, what am I going to say? Thought Brian. He composed the report mentally. Suspect was not responding to traditional interrogation tactics, officer decided to invade personal space to 

 

To do what, exactly?

 

"How old is Jesse?" Brian whispered a handsbreadth away from Dom's ear. Dom reflexively twitched his shoulders back and pushed the chair back almost a foot. As he was perched on his lap, Brian just went back with him.

 

"Why do you care?" Dom ground that out through a locked jaw 

 

"Can you picture him with the skells in the yard at Lompoc? The big L wasn't that friendly to you...do you think Jesse would last a week?"

 

"Uncuff me." The words dropped like stones.

 

"No" Brian laced his fingers together and braced them on Dom's neck. "I like you like this." Madness, sheer madness.

 

Brian had to lean in even closer to hear Dom's next words which weren't even whispered but the just the faintest outline of sounds. 

 

"You've got nothing." 

 

"Well that's not entirely true. Right now, I've got you. Possession's nine tenths of the law, which is why they're more concerned about where the stuff is than where you end up." Brian decided not to bring up habeus corpus at this juncture. 

 

"Who are you going to trust, man? Me or the American way of justice?" He leaned in again to whisper, face studiously turned away from the mirror. "Dom if I can't get you off, at the very least, I can get you out of this building. Then we can go from there." 

 

If Brian was slow to draw his head away, it was only because he needed a moment to put all his thoughts into his face for Dom to read. Please let him hear what I'm not saying, he begged mentally. I can give you three hours to get to Mexico. I can protect the others. You're right, they have nothing...but we...you and me... us...we have everything. Please believe me. Please trust me.

 

The silence stretched and Brian noticed that Dom was not even breathing. His eyes were running over Brian's face like it was the treacherous track ahead. Dom squeezed his eyes shut and a wave of pain washed over his expression. He didn't open his eyes again but he whispered: "Crenshaw and Main. Angelo Ancinni. He's a wiseguy, Brian." Dom opened his eyes and it was Brian's turn to read. Go in heavy and armed because they are trigger-quick. Be ready for anything. Don't throw my name into it. If you screw this up, there will be no corner of hell to hide in.

 

"Right." Brian paused for a moment after he shoved himself upward. "Not to sound cheesy or anything, but you won't regret this as much as you could have."

 

Dom said nothing.

 

"You're a funny guy, aren't you?" snarled Bilkins as Brian strode into the observation closet. "Did they teach you that trick at the Academy?"

 

"Just needed to throw him off balance," Brian mumbled. "They taught us two words at the Academy: whatever works. Do you want to know or not?" 

 

"Yes. Jesus. Spill it!" Tanner looked to have tensed up considerably in the past quarter hour. Caffeine must be kicking in. Brian quickly relayed the location amid assorted warnings about the likelihood of a gun battle. Bilkins waved him off. "You've got SWAT geared up?" he asked Tanner. Tanner nodded and turned to Brian, "You want to ride along on this?" 

 

"No," interjected Bilkins, surly, "The kid stays and gets a jump on his paperwork. I want a full statement from Torretto by the time we get this all locked up. And I want last week's expenses itemized." 

 

Brian lodged a token protest, but inside he was ecstatic that Bilkins had made it so easy for him. Tanner gave him an unreadable look as he turned out the door. He took a few steps after the Fed's broad back and then turned to face Brian. 

 

"Hey, catch!" Brian grabbed the small ring of keys out of the air. "Good luck." This was said quietly, but to Brian it echoed through the crowded hallway. Again he had to wonder how much his superior knew or suspected of his feelings for Dom. Brian nodded slowly and traced his hand in a mock salute as Tanner turned away, already barking into his cell phone. He squared his shoulders, tucked the keys into his pocket and banged back into the squalid room.

 

Dom barely lifted his head as Brian went to stand in front of him. Brian felt his stomach turn over at the look of despair on an almost impassive face. The constant surge of emotions had left him feeling slightly nauseated: what must Dom be feeling at this moment? 

 

Brian wanted to say something like hey, everything's going to be alright, I'm going to get those things off of you and we'll get out of here, but his brain had abandoned him and left him with nothing but knees weakened with reaction.

 

He reached down and gripped Dom's shoulder's pulling him upright. Dom had chosen that moment to push up off of the chair and Brian swayed for a moment, overbalanced. His mind whispered: just one last moment. Just one last second of craziness. He ran both his hands up over Dom's shoulders and neck to frame either side of his jaw and before the shock could wear off, he leaned close and their lips met. Just a faint brush, but then he was pressing in and, Oh my God, Dom was pressing back and Brian had no idea what to do. His absent brain sent him vague thoughts of the damage Dom could do to a freely offered tongue. He rubbed his face into Dom's neck, inhaling him and caught his teeth on edge of his earlobe. He heard Dom's breath catch. Dom's scalp made the tips of his fingers tingle with the light prickle of stubble. He suddenly heard his name spoken as if from a vast distance. 

 

With an effort, he finally tore himself from the intoxicating mix of scent and skin feeling. Again Dom whispered his name. When Dom raised his eyes, Brian had the dizzying feeling of vertigo, as if he had stuck his head in a deep well. Those moist dark eyes swallowed all of the doubt and fear that were etched in Brian's face. Dom must feel the same because he had to close his eyes before his next words could escape.

 

"Uncuff me...please."

 

This was the test then: what happens next? Am I going to die? Will he pound my head into the floor until my skull cracks? Brian couldn't tell where terror ended and arousal began. 

 

Brian let the cuffs fall to the floor without touching them, not wanting to let go of Dom for a second. He rubbed his thumbs over the deep wells the steel had carved into Dom's broad wrists. If he could just hold on, nothing would change, nothing would have to end, they could just stay in this weird twilight state, between what could and could not happen. But Dom was not co-operating. His newly freed hands gripped Brian's upper arms vise-like and he shook Brian until his head rocked back, his teeth clenched against the coming assault. 

 

"Why?" that single choked syllable was like a rasp against his nerves. "Why now?"

 

Brian couldn't muster his thoughts to weave a convincing lie. "You wouldn't have let me later."

 

Brian didn't have a second for regret while Dom's thick arms slid over his back and squeezed him breathless. He was pressed into the wall of Dom's hard flesh....

 

 

Brian woke up gasping, twisted up, over and around his cot. The utility room spun dizzily around him. A cold prickling sweat made him shiver through his whole body and he had to grab his head with both hands to stop the spinning. Oh god. That had felt so real. He got up and padded over to the small sink in the corner, splashed icy water on his face and sluiced it off with a shaking hand. His erection ached; it felt like he had been hard for hours. He flung himself back down on the hot, tangled sheets and breathed deeply, pondering the last word that Dom had murmured into his ear, surrender, the whisper of his searing breath had made Brian shudder.


End file.
